Spider
by Jervis Tetch Madness
Summary: A Chris x Wesker fanfiction. Albert Wesker had a Nightmare, jolting the two awake. Wesker won't open up to Chris, even after rudely waking the both of them up. All Chris wants if for his stubborn captain to talk, then they can go back to sleep. [Summery is no good.] A M/M all is fluff. One-Shot!


**Warning: Characters do not belong to me, just the idea. Also, Male/Male love! Don't like! Don't read! **

"_Your nothing Christopher.."_ _A growl erupted from his throat, not of his own accord. "Your effort to stop me has always been futile."_

"_That's not true!" Came another voice, weak and pleading. "I will defeat you! It's over Wesker!"_

"_Over?" His English drawl fading from existence, the crazier he became. "No, it's only just begun!" The shout was forced, crude and enraged. The annoyance and defiance flung off his tongue spitefully, grating every word into the brunettes thick skull. The movements were fast, it was all a subtle blur as everything whooshed by his flawless face. Then came the inevitable 'snap' when he broke the younger man's neck._

_The blonde smirked at his victory; the insignificant feeble annoyance was finally gone. He had won._

_Then things began to change, Chris looked up at him, face twisted and snapped off to the side, his spinal cord sticking out the side of his neck. A look of utter horror spread across the tyrants face, staring into the disfigurement with utter disgust. "Wesker…" His name was gurgled out, sounding rasped and wet when the younger man spat it out, along with some of his blood._

_Wesker stepped back, his back pressed up against a wall, he didn't remember their being a wall there.._

_Chris took a step forward before falling on all fours; his head snapped back up with a violent 'crack,' as he did so, swiftly and efficiently flung his legs backwards, over his head. A flexibility that the blond never knew the younger male had, the brunette wrenched his arms back, supporting his weight on his opposite end, before he began crawling like a large deformed spider towards the older man._

_The blonde's first instinct was to fight, or run. Yet as he tried to push off the wall, his body stated put._

_Letting out a gasp of surprise, he looked down, and saw he was chained, trying to rip off the constraints, he couldn't. The pain shot up his arm, making him curse under his breath, he moved his eyes back towards the brunette who was far closer than the blonde would have preferred. He began to panic._

"_The itsy bitsy spider.." Chris chuckled out painfully, his form leaving a deep blooded trail in its wake._

_Albert used everything he had in his panic, trying to pull free, it began to hurt, began to burn. His breathing hitched, and eyes widened in horror. He can't escape, he can't escape he can't escape he can't escape. Before he knew it Chris was in front of him, standing upright and grinning this terribly blooded grin, some type of black fogged liquid oozed out of his mouth._

"_Your nothing Wesker.." He chuckled, his voice mocking and gurgled. "Your effort to stop me has always been futile."_

"No!" Albert Wesker shot straight up from his slumber, his eyes wide and terrified; a cold sweat fell off his paled face. His breathing was uneven and rushed, heavy until he finally gained his composure soon after, fear, a sign of weakness. He wasn't afraid, not of some stupid nightmare.

"Wesker..?"

The voice startled the blonde, making him noticeably jump. He closed his eyes and sighed, his eyes shooting over to the clock on his bed stand, 3:27 a.m, Wesker sighed, "I apologize Christopher, I didn't mean to wake you, go back to sleep." He said, almost above a whisper.

"Hm..?" The blonde could feel his subordinate shift on the bed, and then a click before the room flooded with light, making the older male squint his eyes momentarily before his eyes quickly adjusted.

Wesker watched as Chris flipped himself to face his captain, half nude, and mostly tired. Letting himself rest in front of blonde, giving a half smile, trying to brush his unruly brown hair out from his sleepy eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Wesker smiled slightly, it was such a sight to see Chris like this, tired, and content. "I'm fine, you had no reason to flip on the lights, now Christopher, you look exhausted, rest, I'll be fine, just a bad dream." His sentence was choppy and he himself sounded tired. It was far too early in the morning for conversation; best get the gunman back to sleep, he needs his rest. Considering the fact that they both had to get up for work tomorrow, whether or not they even wanted to.

Chris cocked a brow at his captain, but as usual he persisted. "You screamed."

"I'm Fine." Wesker snapped. This wasn't any of the youth's concern, it was his own, he should have learned by now that it's terribly rude to persist...

"You're lying."

"No I am not."

"Then why are you shaking?"

Wesker cocked a brow, before noticing the slight shiver that his body was fighting. He frowned.

"I'm cold."

"Liar."

"Well this really isn't any of your concern." Wesker protested, glaring at the younger male. "Now I suggest that you.."

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

Wesker was caught off guard by the remark, not only was he interrupted, but he was insulted as well, or at least believed he was. He wasn't entirely sure what the gunman was referring to, he doesn't do anything to himself, ever.

"Pardon?" He asked, idly running his fingers through his messy blonde hair, the event's last night helped ruffle it up more than it usually was, he hated it when his subordinate pulled and ran his own rough hands through his hair, it always messed it up, no matter how good it felt, it sure as hell sucked when he had to put a brush in it in the morning.

"You always push me away when you obviously have something wrong with you, it can't be healthy holding all your emotions.. erm.. Whatever you have, up and pretend like it doesn't bother you."

"It doesn't bother me."

"Bull-shit, you just screamed like Freddy Krueger was coming after you." The younger man's lips went into a stiff line, eye brows furrowing in frustration. "What's it gonna take for you to talk to me?"

Wesker sighed softly, "Just leave it be Christopher."

A protesting grunt came from the younger male, the noise was absurd and Wesker couldn't help but chuckle, lying back on his pillow and staring up at his celling. "It's nothing dear heart, everyone has night-terrors."

Chris didn't agree with the response, wishing his captain would just tell him, and stop with the stupid riddles, though he doubted he'd get anything out of him. Wesker was more stubborn than a mule, which irritated the younger male to no end, but sometimes, being unbreakable as the blonde was, kept himself and many other's alive because of his attitude. Even if that attitude got him punched in the face..

Chris sighed, scooting closer to the already drifting blonde. He rested his head on the other's strong pale chest, his shirt soft and slightly oversized for the thin man. Chris wrapped his arms around him, staying quiet for a moment longer before responding.

"Yeah.. But not everybody screams in their sleep."

"Have you had enough?"

"No."

It was Wesker's turn to sigh now, the man didn't know what 'go to bed and shut up before I kill you.' meant. It was aggravating, so very aggravating.

Wesker looked down at the tired man, and idly began brushing his fingers through the messy dark locks, getting a nuzzle from the man resting on him, he smirked. "You know Christopher.."

"If it's not about your problems, I don't want to hear it."

Wesker rolled his eyes, "Will you drop it, I'm perfectly fine."

"No, you're mentally disturbed and an asshole, but that's not the point." Chris raised his head slightly to look at his captain, "The point is you're going to go crazy if you don't talk about what's going on in that head of yours."

"That's not true, I know of plenty of people who keep it down in their system and are perfectly fine."

Chris scoffed, "Name one."

"Well.. There is Rebecca Chambers."

"She's in therapy."

"Oh.. Well there's Brad."

"Brad talks to himself when he thinks no one's looking."

Wesker gave him a look, wondering how he knows any of this, but decided against asking, he'd be accused of changing the subject and 'hiding the truth,' as it was so bluntly put.

"Alright, what about Hunter S. Thompson?"

"The writer?"

"You've heard of him?"

"Yeah, He killed himself."

"Bloody hell, Christopher!"

Chris felt a smirk of his own spread across his features. "Admit it Al, You don't know a damn person."

"That's not true. I just can't think of their names, it's far too early in the morning." Wesker countered, trying to avoid confrontation.

"Wesker.." Chris sighed. "Why are you so closed off, it won't hurt to open up a little bit."

Oh Christopher, if only you knew.

"It's my own personal battles, I'll handle them as such."

"That's not what I wanted to hear."

"Then what do you want to hear?"

Chris went silent, thinking for a moment before looking up at Wesker. "I Just want you to trust me." Wesker smirked, Chris reminded him of some begging emotionally deprived woman when he was tired, normally when he was fully awake, he wouldn't so much as think about his own personal emotional difficulty's let alone the man beside him, it wasn't something he dwelled on often and when he did he was either really tired, or an emotional wreck.

"Now why should I do that?" The cockiness just dripping off his voice, sliding his fingers softly and lazily across his lovers face, feeling the warmth radiate from his face against the tips.

"Because…" Chris began, leaning into the touch. "You'll be able to sleep better."

Wesker yawned, he wasn't sure if he believe him or not, but chose not to doubt him. Besides, he wasn't going to get any sleep if he didn't begin to talk, Chris could easily keep him up for a few more hours before drifting off, He's contemplated whether he could wait him out, but the sudden weariness among other things said otherwise.

"I'll tell you one thing, just one, and then we can go to bed. Deal?"

Chris was pleased with the response, looking up at his superior. "Alright then," He began, looking away for a second, glancing over at the covered window, it was still terribly dark outside, just the thought of laying his head back into his warm pillow, covered by blankets, and curled up next to his lover seemed nicer the more he thought about it. "What do you dream about?"

_The itsy bitsy spider…_

Wesker frowned, sighing before glancing over at the other wall. It wasn't decorated, but his apartment only had what was necessary to survive, personal effects never seemed worth putting up, considering he was only here to sleep and eat and whatnot, never staying longer than needed.

"Terrible things." He stated, his voice hard.

"What kind of things?"

Wesker looked down at his lover, seeing his face wide awake and curious. Wesker forced a small ghost of a smile on his face, before planting a kiss on the gunman's forehead. "You'll see."

You all will.

**A Shiz oneshot. Haters gonna sue :3 Anyways, inspiration came from a nightmare of my own. I was in a white room, chained to the floor, I couldn't move and the celling began coming down, then some fucked up looking skinny mutated abomination crawled on me and ripped me open. It was saying something, and all I caught from it was **_**the itsy bitsy spider **_**and I was inspired. Scared the fuck out of me though -.- I do hope you like, though it's terribly written with no reason for existing. I wanted it for the hell of making it. :3 **


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